


the actress

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/F, Gen, Pre-Canon, there are hints of pining but that's not really the central theme of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: “You know,” Kit sighed. “Most people just have imposter syndromes, I think.”“Well, I hardly have the capacity to worry I’m not actually good enough when my problem is I think I’m too good at what I do,” Beatrice lamented.
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire & Kit Snicket, Beatrice Baudelaire/Kit Snicket
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	the actress

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't own asoue

“The thing is - the  _ thing _ is,” Beatrice emphasized, leaning forward, her eyes focused on Kit, zeroing in on her, as if making absolute sure that Kit was paying full attention. “I feel like I’m constantly performing, you know?”

She exhaled sharply, not taking her eyes off Kit, and then suddenly stood up and slowly walked around to stand behind the chair. She leaned forwards, arms on the chair supporting herself, frowning. “About  _ everything _ . When I get angry at things on my friends’ behalf I do truly feel angry, but I also wonder if I’m just performing my anger, you know? I can be genuinely, truly, deeply angry and still feel that my anger is a performance, to feel that it’s carefully curated. As if I’m on stage.”

Beatrice pushed herself up, standing back up straight, walking away a few steps and walking back. “I know it sounds contradictory and illogical for my anger to be both real and performative, but okay, hear me out, alright?” She snapped her fingers.

Kit raised an eyebrow slightly, “I’m listening.”

“Because I can also suppress my anger when needed,” Beatrice said. “Because I’m just that good an actress and excellent spy, so if I need, for mission purposes or something else, I can definitely set that aside and be all sunshine. But then I have to wonder, if I’m capable of not showing my anger, does that turn showing it into a performance, then?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“No no no, think about it,” Beatrice sat down again, her feet sliding out her heels, and she folded her legs up onto the chair. “Think about it, doesn’t it make sense? Is my righteous anger about things just a performance to fool other people into thinking I’m righteous? Maybe to fool myself, too. When Ernest complains about VFD to me, when I’m angry on his behalf, when I’m sympathetic, am I performing? I’m quite beloved in our organization, in some way, because I’m charming and all that. Doesn’t that fact naturally make my sympathy or anger for him fake, by default?”

“Alright,” Kit interrupted. “You can’t actually trust everything Ernest says about VFD. He could very well be lying, and even when he isn’t, he’s biased anyway.”

“No look, Kit,” Beatrice frowned. “Don’t you see? This is not about Ernest or whether he’s lying or not. This is about me. This is my stage and I’m the main character. We’re focusing on me now, and whether Ernest is truthful or notl is actually irrelevant.”

Kit supposed that when someone said a sentence like “this is my stage and I’m the main character”, they probably had a point about constantly performing. So she sighed, and said, “Fine, go on.”

“I don’t know, I just think it feels very performative of me, when I agree with him, even if I do agree with him. I feel my anger is a performance, even when I’m angry, because I know how to best present my anger, in a grandiose way, to make sure my voice is heard.” She paused. “Not that I don’t think I shouldn’t be making sure my voice is heard. I think everyone has the right to do that, even if I’m such a good actress that it gives me a natural advantage, that doesn’t mean I don’t have the right. But sometimes I do worry about how genuine I am, because I’m too good a performer and I’m fooling everyone, not just when I’m on stage but in everyday life.”

“You may be underestimating us a bit, Beatrice,” Kit said drily. “It may surprise you, but as your friends, we do see through quite a lot of your dramatic antics and performances, and we do know when you’re genuine. You’re not - deceiving us.”

“Oh, I’m not implying in any way that you’re not observant, Kit, not at all,” Beatrice said immediately. “You’re very smart and clever and sharp and I wouldn’t underestimate you at all, but what if you had underestimated me? Perhaps I had just tricked you into sympathizing with me, after I told you my worries about being a performer all the time. Even though I do worry. But the way you just believed it made me feel like even if I had been lying, you would believe me too.”

“But you’re not lying,” Kit pointed out. “You’re overthinking this, Beatrice.”

“But I  _ could  _ be, and I’d still fool you.”

“Alright, Beatrice, no offense, you’re a great actress, but I can see through you,” Kit met her gaze evenly. “Just like I’m seeing right through you right now you’re worrying, while telling yourself this is hardly something to worry about.”

“Oh, Kit,” Beatrice shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid you really underestimate my acting skills and how deceiving I could be.” She looked at Kit. “You know, I can declare my love for you right here right now, and bring you flowers, and I can romance you, and then you’d buy it. That’s how good I am, and I feel like I should definitely be more careful, with great acting skills comes great responsibility and all that.”

Kit felt her mind go blank for a moment, and then said, finally. “Don’t worry, I’ll still see right through it.”  _ Because I’m too smart to think you would actually fall for me. _

_ That means I’m deceiving you perfectly, _ Beatrice thought.  _ Because I’d be pretending to be only pretending to love you while actually doing so, that’s how good I am _ . “Only because I had told you beforehand,” she huffed. “The point is, I’m just very good at this, and it’s starting to worry me, you know? And it’s not just righteous anger, or love, either. Sometimes I feel my sadness is a performance, like yes I’m sad and I think I have every right to be, but are those tears real? Am I crying harder than usual to garner sympathy? The questions don’t ever end.”

“You know,” Kit sighed. “Most people just have imposter syndromes, I think.”

“Well, I hardly have the capacity to worry I’m not actually good enough when my problem is I think I’m  _ too good _ at what I do,” Beatrice lamented. “Like, I know I’m not an imposter. A pretender, maybe, which may sound similar, but there’s a very fundamental difference. My capabilities are fine. I only question my genuinity.”

“Even when you think your feelings and emotions are real,” Kit commented.

“Especially when they are real,” Beatrice corrected her. “Because when they’re false, I know I’m performing, and am probably doing so for a goal. I don’t have to worry as much. It’s when they are real it’s the problem, because then it’s much harder to tell if I’m actually performing or not.”

“Then maybe,” Kit suggested. “The answer is just, you’re  _ not _ .”

“Well, you don’t know that. I can be fooling myself.” She stood up again, barefoot this time, walking to a nearby cabinet full of books and climbing onto it. “But don’t worry about it. I suppose this is a battle I’ll have to have with myself. Now let’s find the poetry book Dewey had hidden away, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
